


'Cats, Aides and Other Problems of Governing'

by le_russe_satan



Category: Political RPF - UK 21st c.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-06
Updated: 2011-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:52:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_russe_satan/pseuds/le_russe_satan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This could be read as a prequel to 'Ineffable Game'.</p>
    </blockquote>





	'Cats, Aides and Other Problems of Governing'

**Author's Note:**

> This could be read as a prequel to 'Ineffable Game'.

**Monday, February, 2012**

 **8:04 am**

 

The car was drawing closer to the offices and Nick wished that he could spend the final free minutes in peace and quiet. But his new personal aide Jeremy was not only highly efficient, but also a slave driver, who didn't know the meaning of the word rest.  
 

'From four to five, you will be meeting with the representatives from the Alternative Energy Commission, or more accurately, people who are _trying_ to establish an Alternative Energy Commission. No, sir. Don't look at me like that. You have to.'

Nick huffed. 'There are ministers for that, aren't there?'

'Yes, sir, but your party has the strongest position on the environmental policies and a large portion of it wants to see you to make nice with hydrogen and solar people, while the Conservatives are off playing nice with oil and gas.' In the two weeks that Jeremy has worked for him, Nick had come to hate that supremely reasonable way the young man talked: it made Nick feel like he was Wooster to Jeremy's Jeeves.

'Hydrogen and solar people? Really? You do realise that it sounds a bit...'

'Yes, sir. Now, you don't have any meetings after five, but the Chief of Staff suggested, ah, excuse me, sir.' Jeremy didn't even fumble with his phone, when answering it. 'Yes, yes. Very well. I'm sure it will not be a problem, sir. Thank you, sir. Well, apparently you do have a meeting at five. Prime Minister would like you to sit down with Justice Hold and then Justice Woodman. Apparently, he would like your input on which one he should recommend for the open spot on the Court of Appeals.'

Nick smiled sourly. 'Another olive branch from Cameron? They just keep coming and coming.'

'So it would seem, sir, and my suggestion is that you start extending more of your own, because the Budget is just around the corner and frankly it's liable to turn into a shitstorm of proportions we have not seen since the NHS reform, hell, since the AV referendum, and the new found coalition unity is all too fragile.'

'Are you saying that if my party, in general, and I, in particular, give some concessions to Cameron now, he'll compromise over the Budget?'

'That is exactly what I am saying, sir, and I am Conservative myself.' As if that particular fact wasn't self-evident from the young man's demeanor.

'Don't, please, don't remind me, I still think that Cameron or Osborne drugged me and then convinced me that hiring a Conservative as my aide was somehow a good idea.'

'They didn't need to drug you, sir,' deadpanned Jeremy.

'They didn't _need_ to?'

'I am afraid that Mr. Prime Minister used his awesome ninja mind tricks on you.' Unexpectedly the aide grinned. Nick snorted. The Conservatives really were nutters.

'So, you really think that letting me choose a new Lord Justice of Appeal is an olive branch. It couldn't be just him fobbing off the decision on me because the choice is between a Liberal Democrat and a Labour candidate?'

The car stopped and Jeremy reached for the door handle.'Ninja mind tricks, sir, ninja mind tricks,' he said, opening the door and sliding out of the car in one smooth motion. The chilly air and the background noise of city rushed into the car, bracing and invigorating.

'You ought to put that on a t-shirt, Jeremy.'

'I did, sir.'

  
 

 **09:34 am**  
 

'You are early,' said David, his voice oddly subdued.

'I can come back later', Nick offered, but didn't hurry to retreat.

'No, no it's fine. Please, have a seat. Will you be meeting with the Justices today?'

'Yes.' David was rubbing his cheek distractedly, his fingers pressing into soft flesh in a way that Nick found oddly compelling.

'That's great. My secretary will give you their files, if you need.'

Nick leaned forward in his seat, trying to get David's full attention. 'We need to talk about the budget. _Really_ talk about it.'

'Yes, yes...'

'David, is something wrong?' They didn't talk like this. Nick never let himself get personal, intimate with the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister who for the first time this morning finally looked at Nick.

'I just met with the Commissioner and the Head of CPS. The prosecutor doesn't think he did it. He thinks the police arrested the wrong man.'

'Christ,' that at least explained David's odd mood. 'Do they have any other viable suspects?'

'No.'

'Labour will be baying for our blood, when they hear about this.'

'Yes... Nick, we can meet about the budget tonight. Osborne should be free.' The confidence was back, David's posture straightening, but his cheek was still reddened from all that rubbing and the words left Nick before he could stop them.

'I need it to be one on one,' Nick hoped like hell that he wasn't blushing. 'If there are any olive branches to extend on my side, I want them to be extended in private first.'

'Alright,' David smiled as if he knew exactly what was going on in Nick's head. 'How's Jeremy working out?'

'He's good, which is the only reason I am not demanding that somebody investigate you for coercion.'

The smile turned into a grin. 'No coercion, I didn't even know him until he applied for the job.'

'No ninja mind tricks?'

David's eyebrows shot up at that. It was definitely time for Nick to leave.

'Right, then. We'll meet on the Budget?'

'Yes, tonight, Nick, I promise.' Nick opened the door, remembered the olive branches and closed it again.

'David. I could call Hopkirk, tell him the news,' David was watching him like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop; Nick continued hurriedly. 'I think he'd be more likely to believe that the prosecution is dragging its heels for a valid reason if it came from a Liberal Democrat rather than a Conservative Prime Minister whom he viciously back benched for the past two years.'

David shook his head and sighed. 'Nick. His daughter _is_ dead and they don't know who did it. He's not going to appreciate the news even if they come from Queen herself. I'll make the call, Nick. Thank you, though.' The genuine gratitude in David's voice made Nick think that extending olive branches could be a very enjoyable thing.

 **10:12 am**

 ****'Sir, Peter Kenilorea would like to attend the next Privy Council meeting,' announces Jeremy from the doorway.

'Who?'

'Sir Peter Kenilorea, former Prime Minister of the Solomon Islands,' Nick was buried in memos on the proposed amendments to the Data Protection Act and it took him a few moments to take in the information.

'Why?' Nick wished that Jeremy would close the door, because at any moment somebody could have passed his office and heard the Deputy Prime Minister being far from glib.

'I don't know, sir, his secretary... Is everything alright, sir?' Not for the first time Nick was taken aback by his aide's ability to block out any sounds of commotion.

'If you must know, I just saw the Prime Minister's Chief of Staff chasing a cat down the corridor.'

'Ah. He's been at that for a while. Apparently, he a faster runner than the Press Secretary, so the Prime Minister thought the task should fall to him.' Maybe there was something to the ninja mind tricks thing after all, thought Nick trying to hide a grin.

 **11:47 am**

Nick's iPhone announced a new text message. The group of ministers that sat around the conference table glared at him in unison. Nick ignored them: their only intention seemed to be boring him to death rather then having any work done anyway.

 _Miliband is going ballistic over the trade agreement. David_

 _Anger suits him. Nick_

 _Are you objectifying the leader of opposition? David_

 _Best way to deal with him. Nick_

While this exchange alleviated the boredom a little, Danny Alexander's text, in which he informed Nick, that he just saw Cameron ' _practically flirting with Ed Miliband. OMG, Miliband looked like he was actually enjoying himself!'_ kept Nick oscillating between amusement and annoyance for the rest of the meeting.

 **12:53 pm**

'Sir, you really ought to have some lunch.' Jeremy practically hovered over Nick's desk looking like he was going to snatch the papers Nick was working on from his hands.

'I already ate. Now leave.'

'Doughnuts are not lunch. You should eat something proper.'

'What are you going to do if I don't? Tell my wife on me?' Nick crumpled up a paper and prepared to stuff it down the aide's throat if he didn't leave him alone soon.

'No, sir. I will tell the Prime Minister.'

'I don't see how that is any business of his, besides what is he going to do? Bake me cookies?'

'I am not familiar with his culinary repertoire, sir.' Nick gritted his teeth and threw the balled up paper at the aide's forehead. Unfortunately, Jeremy clearly knew how to duck.

 _I will bake you a damned cake, if that will get you to eat like a human being should. David –_   
said the text that Nick received several minutes later, proving that Jeremy was a dirty Conservative spy and Nick had every right to be paranoid about Cameron's intentions. Except he wasn't sure what those intentions were anymore.


End file.
